


From New York, With Love.

by DirtyMartini (Zetaii)



Series: With Love, For You. [2]
Category: GOT7
Genre: 60s!AU, FLUFF FLUFF SO MUCH FLUFF, Genderfluid Jinyoung I guess???, Jaebum as the pianist, Jinyoung as a waitress, M/M, and mark as the clumsy business man, youngjae as the barman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 12:05:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7976203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zetaii/pseuds/DirtyMartini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don’t think you get it," Jinyoung said. "I don’t dance."</p>
            </blockquote>





	From New York, With Love.

_"The richer the pickier, the older the needier."_

 

-

  _New York, 1964._

  
Twiggy thick eyelashes and a pixie cut matching charmingly and bewitchingly well with the tightly-clad dress around the hips, puffy from there on downwards reaching the knees if it were tucked down against the skin, mostly with polka dots but sometimes plain or with stripes instead. The sixties, it was a day in the sixties, could have been any day in the sixties, really, because all things considered nothing especially special happened that day, but that was mostly because every day was a little bit special.  
  
Jinyoung was sat on the edge of the stage, lightening his _Lucky Strike_ cigarette of which the packet eagerly announced that _'Lucky Strike's taste better!'_ \- It was on the front and on the ads in the newspapers and magazines, held up by stunning feminine women in ponytails with a smile on their lips happy to please. Jinyoung tried to mirror it, pulling back his shoulders and resting his cheek on it, sticking out his chest and smiling widely.  
  
No matter how fiercely he studied every pose, he and the bella donna's from the covers were miles apart within his own town. The bella donna's were feminine and oozing flirty springtime pheromones through the magazine paper and unfortunately that was something Jinyoung could never ever learn to master. Overtime, he accepted it.  
  
The jazz keys bouncing off of the fingers of Mr.Pianoman reached every corner of the room. The lights were dimmed down in a yellow colour, Youngjae - the bartender - walked up and down the bar cleaning the glasses before opening hour. Jinyoung looked at Youngjae, and Youngjae looked at Jinyoung shaking his head.  
  
"It's okay, I'll do it. You're our princess after all."  
  
So Jinyoung shrugged, taking a long drag of his cigarette watching the ashes dribble down and burn, they burned on the dress he was wearing. "I didn't say anything."  
  
Youngjae winked at him regardless. Jinyoung didn't wonder about it, instead considering whether he should open up the zipper of his dress to expose his left leg more. He did so, leaving it mid-thigh while the dress was supposed to almost reach his toes but not long enough to cover up his dashing black highheels.  
  
The burn mark of the cigarette was invisible, but when Mark took another long drag and the ashes fell on his skin he told himself it was an accident, even though he didn't flinch or hiss but watched it burn on his stockings, little dark spots littering it.  
  
So it went like that. It went like it always did. Jinyoung stood up to sit on the piano vibrating a little and stared lovingly at the man playing it, who was coincidentally the manager of the somewhat extravagant, somewhat beat-up jazz club in downtown New York.  
  
Jinyoung envied the piano a little bit for capturing all of Jaebum's undivided attention like that - Jinyoung then realized that envying soulless inanimate objects was futile and pathetic at best, so instead he sang without asking for permission, and he sang to Elle Fitzergald and he sang to Nina Simone, carefully placing the ashtray with all of his fabricated and studied femininity on the piano, singing the words the vinyls taught him how to pronounce.  
  
His Mr.Pianoman, Im Jaebum, caught on and smiled throughout the songs, changing from one to another like the appear and dissapear of the cigarette smoke - from " _A Sentimental Mood"_ to _"Dream a Little Dream of Me"_ Jinyoung followed him less like they were singing and playing an instrument and more like they were dancing ballroom in perfect synchronization. Harmony with each other, Jinyoung's voice was almost as beautiful as he thought Jaebum was.  
  
Finally the mishmash of songs finished and the resonating sound of the last note lingered through the room in an echo Jinyoung was bedazzled in, moving one lock of his long, brown hair behind his ear and looking down on Jaebum.  
  
"New wig?"  
  
Jinyoung nodded calmly, tapping his cigarette and putting it his mouth again. Jaebum did not smoke, because Jaebum could neither afford it nor did he like it. When he put the cigarette down for a second time, the liprint of his red lipstick was marked on it.  
  
"Looking stunning as always."  
  
Jinyoung looked the other way, blaming the heat for the blush on his cheeks and awkward cough, Jaebum smiled at him fondly and continued talking regardless.  
  
"An important business man is coming down tonight," Jinyoung frowned at him. "Hey - don't give me that look, they're asian."  
  
Jinyoung sighed a little bit in relief. And so, the evening passed and nine p.m arrived while Jaebum played a few more songs before the actual, 'professional' pianoman arrived who Jinyoung thought didn't do it half as well as the manager did - he who made him feel alluring, attractive and sexy, the professional who made background music. Perhaps that was the bitter point of it.  
  
Which is a good moment to pause.  
  
The club was more-or-less exactly what you probably expected it to be reading up to this point - a jazz and gentleman's club hybrid in the less exclusive region of New York and for reasons that were beyond anybody who worked there, a hit for expensive suits who could buy the lounge ten times over and still have money to give it a renovation. That is to say, the richer the pickier, the older the needier.  
  
As for the name of the lounge, well, that information is not relevant at all to the story on our hands. There was nothing especially special about it, just like there was nothing especially special about that night. Jinyoung hung around the bar before he was on duty, Youngjae cleaned glasses and Jaebum played the piano till opening hour - Jinyoung would sing with him, smoke a lot, Youngjae would talk to him and Jinyoung would not answer back but it was alright because both Jaebum and Youngjae understood him without the need for words.  
  
Jinyoung was 'officially' a waitress, a waitress who was now serving drinks to different people who thought they had her all figured out just for knowing her actual profession.  
  
That was the night when he met Mark Tuan, a not especially special night, because every night was something special.  
  
Mark Tuan was a junior business man clumsy with his words and did not have the dominant aura his serious looking superiors had. Like they were always in a hurry even with taking shots and downing drinks. Like they were talking business when talking about which exotic dancer suited their taste more. Like they were trained not to take 'no' for an answer and they adjusted this lesson to everything else in their lives. Like they were exactly the kind of people Jinyoung did not like but Jinyoung knew would throw money at her to show off their domination over a simple worker like herself.  
  
They were from a New York based Taiwanese company buying and selling empty buildings which was just as mundane and boring as it sounded, and they were important looking suits with their ties hung loose and the leader was apparently the boss's bestfriend. Jinyoung and Youngjae had never seen their boss in their years working there.  
  
(Jinyoung had worked there ever since he dropped out of highschool, Youngjae worked there ever since nobody wanted to hire a Korean kid with an accent)  
  
Years of practice hanging on his lips made him feel damn sure that he was not supposed to empathize the youngest of the team as much as he was. Less prestige and less wealth, less money less demanding less old less needy. He looked awkward. Uncomfortable. A red splash of colour on the monochrome of their suits and black hair. He was not worthy of seducing and less worthy of trying to impress compared to the rest of the table.  
  
When Jinyoung served their drinks, he arched his back gracefully, butt looking wonderful in her dress and everybody looked at him like everybody usually did when it came to Jinyoung, beautiful, tall, tan skinned long-haired curvaceous Jinyoung with blush on her cheeks, eyeliner on her eyes and full, red lips twisting into an acknowledging smile.   
  
Naturally, Mark's attention was on him like a hawk. It was not supposed to feel so liberating but Jinyoung felt gorgeous being the cause of their stares which was why he took an extra long time putting his drink down, he knew his superiors were going to give him some trouble for it and indeed, a hushed 'excuse me' after accidentally touching Mark's hand was all it took.  
  
The night passed slowly and so was Mark while nervously fingering the edges of his cup with whiskey and coca-cola while the elegant strippers took the stages, all eyes on them except for Mark's. He knew he was not going to make any money that night.  
  
So Jinyoung let his eyes close, music booming in a repetition of songs he had heard night after night for the past month, chants loud and nasty and Jinyoung played a mental game of how many men were huddled up by the stage begging the strippers to take their money - he leaned back on the counter, head hanging and counted till ten for his bubble to be restored. He counted, he counted one and he counted two and three and when he reached ten he swung his head forward and suddenly it was eleven p.m and the business men were long since gone.  
  
"You look beautiful, miss."  
  
It was the clumsy junior from before. Jinyoung looked up to him through his fake eyelashes and few strands of hair covering his his eyes - he looked around them before answering him, seeing that the place was half-empty and Youngjae was giggling at him from the other side of the counter while Jaebum stood up to take over the piano for the rest of the night as the people would spill out little by little.  
  
He looked up to Mark again, still bent over and not bothering to move.  
  
"Shouldn't you leave with your boss, darling?" Jinyoung asked then, both teasing and serious.  
  
Mark smiled awkwardly, touching his nape. "Perhaps. But I wanted to see you before I left."  
  
"If you want to see me," Jinyoung said. "You shouldn't leave just yet, darling."  
  
It was then when Mark realized there was something off about the beautiful woman in front of him, looking both so tired but full of spite to play with words in front him. He observed him for a second, second turned into twenty, and if it bothered him, well, he didn't show it. Which was good as anything to Jinyoung, so they sat in the corner of the bar, and Jinyoung closed his eyes to listen to Jaebum.

Mark did not mind.  
  
"He's a good player," Mark said, sipping on his fourth whiskey cup of the night. "Are you tired, miss?"  
  
He felt Mark's comforting hand on his knee, squeezing it a little. Jinyoung was not sure if he did or did not like the directness while he stared at his hand on him. He was supposed to be used to this kind of thing yet the first time jiterness was always in his tummy.  
  
"Not tired enough for a good gentleman to talk to me." Jinyoung flirted, crossing his legs and giving Mark his killer smile. He gulped.  
  
"Too bad," Mark fingered the edges of the glass some more, taking a sip. "Too bad I'm not that good of a gentleman, then."  
  
Jinyoung did not ask what he meant by that - the boy had nice eyelashes, oh the boy had nice, long eyelashes which Jinyoung kind of envied - metal rings around his fingers in the shape of a rose. Jinyoung eyed them on his knee, his own knee covered by pretty stockings which made his skin seem tanner that it really was.  
  
"Do you like jazz music, miss?"  
  
Miss. It made Jinyoung giggle softly and it was the first time in a long time he let out a laugh so sincere. The man seemed extremely young and naive and Jinyoung wondered how old he was.  
  
"Indeed I do." He smiled, and watched as Mark loosened his tie even more and took out a cigarette to put it between his own lips. Jinyoung watched him intently, and Mark put another one between Jinyoung's lips too, lightening it for her.  
  
Which was when Jinyoung knew it was his call to stand up and sit on Mark's knee, blowing the smoke in his flustered face and laughing for a second time. It was really funny, Jinyoung promised it was.  
  
"Oh miss, that is no way to treat a man." But Mark was smiling too, admiring Jinyoung from his position as she gently took off one of the rings on his fingers and put it on her own, looking at her manicured hands, deciding she liked the way it looked.  
  
Mark smirked, holding Jinyoung's hips to pull her closer to him, feeling her warmth.  
  
"So does everyone know you're a man, miss?" Mark suddenly asked, stretching his arms over Jinyoung's, interlacing their fingers.  
  
Jinyoung hummed. "But I'm not, my dear," she shrugged. "Or I can, if that's what you want me to be."  
  
The piano sang them tirelessly through it, Jaebum having taken off his jacket and sporting a beautiful, oversized and long sleeved white blouse instead, hair a little too long and hair a little too undercared for so it covered his eyes sometimes while Youngjae was gleefully serving drinks and hopping to the song. Jinyoung looked at Mark, and he decided he liked the reaction he got.  
  
"I don't really care, darling," Jinyoung nodded. "I like dresses, I like pretty long hair, I like long coloured nails and I especially love make-up and higheels - if I can pull it off as a woman, then so be it."  
  
"I like dresses too," Mark responded, sitting straight, shuffling Jinyoung on his lap. "And long hair, and long coloured nails and especially make-up and higheels," he paused. "I like them on pretty people like yourself, miss."  
  
"Corny, cheesy, overheard." Jinyoung rolled his eyes to cover up the fact that he wanted to squirm under his words.  
  
"Should I ever mention this night to anyone but myself, I'll tell them about the most beautiful person I have met."  
  
"You're not very fazed are you, darling?"  
  
"How could I be?" Mark asked, playfully. "Jinyoung, that's your name right?" Jinyoung nodded. "What is it that you usually do with this job?"  
  
“If you’re talking about sex, my dear, you should talk to the pianoman who decides if you’re trustworthy or no-”  
  
“Dance with me.” Mark interrupted him.  
  
Jinyoung blinked a couple of times, not sure whether to laugh or be offended of being cut off mid-sentence.  
  
“I think you misunderstood, darling. I don’t dance.”  
  
“Make an exception,” Mark stood up, putting Jinyoung’s highheeled feet on the ground and kissed her manicured hands. “Dance with me, miss.”  
  
How was he going to tell an eager man that a woman did not dance? It was unheard of, dishonorable to his feminity. Jinyoung knew how to dance, he knew how to dance to sensual music but he did not know how to dance to happy jazz music.  
  
Mark held his hand, spun him around experimentally. Jinyoung raised his eyebrows almost in a declaration of war, and then Mark spun him again, letting him fall in his arms when Jaebum pressed all the keys from low to high.  
  
“People are watching.” Jinyoung whispered, a little bit caught of guard but nothing he was not used to in terms of attention.  
  
“Let them. You’re a sight to behold after all.”  
  
Ray Charles’s _'I Got a Woman'_ started playing, and Jinyoung weakly noted it was Jaebums favourite song to listen to and favourite song to play. He told Mark this, getting in the swing of it with his hips and taps of his heels as Mark led his steps.  
  
“You fancy mister pianoman don’t you, miss?”  
  
“I only have eyes for you, darling,” Jinyoung giggled when Mark rolled his eyes and swung him so Jinyoung stepped to the right and almost stumbled on Mark’s chest. The music went faster and Jinyoung thought it shouldn’t be allowed for a man to follow the music as well as Mark did at that moment.  
  
Until it slowed down, and Aretha Franklin’s _'I Say A Little Player'_ started playing instead to the great happiness of everyone in the bar at that moment, beginning to stand up and dance themselves. Jinyoung was in disbelief.  
  
_“Forever and ever, you’ll stay in my heart,”_ Mark mouthed dramatically to the lyrics, grinning cheekily and Jinyoung felt the sudden urge to kiss it off his handsome face. _“I’m in love with you, say you love me too.”_  
  
So he did, quickly, a peck at best and Mark’s imagination at worst.  
  
“Miss, is this part of your seduction routine?”  
  
“Just for you, darling.”  
  
It was driving Mark absolutely insane, which is he turned him around so Jinyoung’s back was stuck on his chest, and he held his hands and led his steps, letting his hands go from his hands up his arms down to his voluptuous hips.  
  
They continued to dance till two a.m arrived, and unfortunately, the bar had to close when Jinyoung and Mark were the only ones left dancing to the music coming out of the jukebox.  
  
“Miss,” Mark said by the exit, fingers roaming over Jinyoung’s pretty hands which still had a couple of his rings. “That was a wonderful night with you.”  
  
Jinyoung was tempted to say same, but he held it in.  
  
“Uh,” Mark bit his lip, then he smiled brightly. “Not to be clingy, but if I don’t get to know you a little more, I feel like I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”  
  
“It’s on you, darling, if you want me, you just have to find me.” And with Mark kissing his fingers for a second time, they parted ways, Jinyoung lingering by the doorframe long enough for Youngjae to whistle at him.  
  
“I was just looking at his car,” Was Jinyoung’s excuse. “It’s really big.” It was.  
  
Youngjae gave him a monologue saying he should’ve minded the older workers more than the youngest one, but quickly realized it was futile because Jinyoung did not care and was not listening.  
  
He was checking out his rings instead, taking one off and noticing the name name _Yien Tuan_ engraved in it. He wondered what it was. It was probably the mans surname, Jinyoung quickly put it back on before anyone asked anymore questions, but Jaebum was already sat in front of him, counting the coins.  
  
“Had fun?”  
  
Jinyoung pouted. “T’is just work.”  
  
Jaebum smiled, looking up to him a little bit sweaty from the performance and body heat.  
  
"Sit down, Youngjae and I will clean up."  
  
Jinyoung nodded, sitting where Jaebum told him to and crossed his legs, wondering briefly if the stranger man was going to visit him the next night and if he was after sex at all - if he was or not did not matter to Jinyoung, zipping down the dress.  
  
He zoned out for the fourth time that night thinking about Cinderella stories until Jaebum's deep voice got him out of his trance - looking up to him zipping his jacket up, rubbing his nose lightly because of the cold, putting his hand in his pocket and using the other one to hold up Jinyoung's bag. He took it, wondering if he should change or not.  
  
"Keep it on," Jaebum insisted. "I like to pretend I have gorgeous women on my arm."  
  
So Jinyoung linked their arms and left Youngjae to his duty of turning off the lights and all the electricity to make sure the place wasn't blown up the next morning because they could not afford a renovation at all, struggling with their bills themselves as it was. Once outside, Jinyoung shivered from the cold and the cautious pianoman noticed it, so he took his jacket off and put it on Jinyoung's shoulders.

"It's cold," Jinyoung barely whispered. "You're cold."

Jaebum smiled, taking Jinyoung's bag and putting his arm around him, taking him closer to his body as they walked on the after midnight streets of downtown New York - mostly immigrants and the lights flickering more than they were properly working, drunk youngsters sitting on the garbage can outside whistling at the two of them, but more at Jinyoung.

"You're our pretty princess," Jaebum said. "Can't have you being sick."

Jinyoung hummed, clutching Jaebum's blouse just to have him a little bit closer, inhaling his scent of sweat laced with cologne.

"When will you go out with me, princess?" Jaebum asked, voice soft. 

Jinyoung shook his head. "I'm sorr-"

"No," Jaebum interrupted, smile on his face. "You're right. You don't have to say it," he kissed the top of his head. "Let's just stay like this forever, Jinyoungie, you, me and Youngjae."

Jinyoung wanted to tell him how much he wanted Jaebum to love him, but the suggestion sounded nice, so as usual, Jinyoung nodded, he agreed. Just him, Jaebum and Youngjae for a very long time in the future.

It sounded nice, so he leaned his head on Jaebum's shoulder.

It sounded nice.

* * *

 

**AN I know these fics will get no attention at all compared to my other ones but I don't really care, because each of these hold a little place in my heart anyway, so if you read it, thank you !!!! it means a lot !**


End file.
